


Pool? no pool :,(

by orphan_account



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M, sin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 11:45:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6237328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is pure, self-indulgent smut.<br/>I'm so sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pool? no pool :,(

What does it mean to be a family? 

Lisanna found herself wondering. Her family had always been Mirajane and Elfman. The sister who stood strong and the brother who never stopped needing her. But now there were more. 

She heard her family while she mixed drinks behind the bar. Natsu and Lucy argued about his latest death-defying stunt with words about nothing more important than a trashy news article about curtain patterns. 

She smelled it in the fish Happy held towards Carla. His wings were tense with anxious hope, and the tiny smile she gave involuntarily before flying away was enough to make Lisanna's day. 

She could taste it in the air that was suddenly wet and heavy. And then frigid against the roof of her mouth. Gray had apparently just found Juvia spying from behind a pillar. Again. 

She could feel it in the way the table jumped when Erza stepped in to the middle of the argument.

And she could see it, in the brawl that was breaking out in the middle of the guildhall for the eighth time that week. 

This guild was her family. And her everything. 

It was what got her through the days of pain and war and the nights filled with memories of loneliness in a world without them.

It was the idea she held on to, at the end of the day, when she closed down the place for the night. 

It was what she told herself when, instead of locking the door at two in the bloody morning and going home to bed, she found herself barefoot in a workroom under the guildhall holding a tiny wooden doll in her hand facing a full-grown man who was wearing a helmet that had gone out of fashion three hundred years ago. 

Bickslow was family. 

So she helped him glue the tiny pieces of a shattered part of his heart back together. Under the light of a ghost he'd summoned, while she should have been asleep in bed, she took care of her family.

The hug he gave her after he'd gently set the doll aside was filled with a clinging sort of desperation and endless gratitude. The wood of the table pressed into her back, while her front was enveloped in the warmth he gave off. It gave her yet another answer. 

And she sensed the promise, the possibility of a new sort of family. One she would make for herself, to love and cherish and to share.

She saw it in his eyes, when she took his helmet off and remained clearheaded. Unaffected by the powers he could have used to get to her, alone in a basement with a man who wanted everything she had to give. 

She smelled it in the tears on his face when she put her forehead against his. 

She tasted it in the way his lips opened against hers. The way he shook, holding himself back against all of his more primal urges to let her lead. 

She heard it in the broken words against her lips. She thought he might be saying that he loved her, but she kissed the words away.

She felt it in the way he refused to take anything, instead letting her give only what she was willing, and giving everything of himself in return.

And she wanted it. She wanted all of it. 

She didn't stop kissing him as she slid her jacket off of her shoulders. She placed one hand on his waist, and with the other, she led his to her hip. What she offered, he worshipped. With gentle circles and feather-light touches, he brought heat into her abdomen. His other hand came up, and hovered just over the skin of her other side. She leaned into it. 

His hands explored her hips and waist as his tongue explored her mouth. He was gentle, and every brush of his finger or his lips felt like a prayer. When his hands tightened, just long enough to lift her into a more comfortable position sitting on the table at her back, he moved down. None of his fingers had left a mark on her delicate skin, but he brushed a kiss against all ten spots in apology nonetheless.

Each kiss drew a gasp. After the tenth, his arms wrapped around her back and he placed his head in the space between her neck and shoulder. He breathed a silent apology against her and she felt herself stiffen. The warmth and slight moisture of his breath made her back arch, pressing her flush against him.

She inhaled sharply.

"Bickslow." It was almost a moan, torn from her parted lips as her fingers dug themselves into his hair. 

His next breath came out ragged. He tore himself from her, hair wild, pupils fully dilated and lips bruised with the force she'd exerted against him. 

"Lisanna." A whisper, broken. "I'm sorry. I didn't. I didn't mean to."

She stilled. An eyebrow arched itself. She was curious as to what had made him stop. It certainly wasn't a lack of attraction. She'd felt the proof of his arousal between her thighs.

He closed his eyes and inhaled. "I'm so sorry." He said, eyes still screwed shut. "You deserve the world. And more." 

Lisanna smiled, both amused and aroused. It was the kind of smile that would have reduced Bickslow to a whimpering mess, had he been able to see. Her hands moved to the bottom of her ribcage and crossed over her torso to grab hold of the edges of her shirt.

"Yes." She replied, confident. The word was enough to open Bickslow's eyes, his gaze on her face. "I do. But I have most of it. My guild is my family, and my family is my world." 

She pulled the shirt up and over her head. She tossed it to the floor and shook out her hair before continuing. 

"I was hoping the more would be you." 

There was no hesitation or shyness left in Lisanna. She had lost everything dear to her once before, and therefore had no intention of letting any of it go a second time. Eyes still holding Bickslow's, she continued removing her clothing. First her bra, then the long fishnet stockings Mira had given her for her last birthday. The tiny black shorts, and finally her underwear fell to join the pile on the floor. 

She was completely naked, but his eyes hadn't moved from her face.

And she waited. Like a hunter waits on a frightened rabbit, she waited for him to move.

The air was cold. Despite her efforts to stay still, Lisanna felt a shiver go through her. Ironically, it was what got a response out of Bickslow. 

"I'm sorry." He whispered. His arms came around her back. She glided hers under the bottom edge of his shirt, pushing the entire thing up. He let his arms come apart long enough to help her get rid of all of the clothing on the top half of his body, before pulling himself back to her.

Chest to chest, he stood in between her legs with his arms around her back. She fell into him, content to let her forehead rest against the side of his neck and share his body heat. 

Until she wasn't.

Sliding her hands around his hips, Lisanna hooked her legs around Bickslow's, pulling herself into him. He let out a strangled gasp as she kissed his neck and moved her head down to start sucking at a spot under his collarbone. When she bit down, his head fell back and she could feel his dick move against his pants. 

Bickslow let out a filthy moan while she left a hickey that would likely mar his skin for at least a month.

When she moved her lips to the side, intending to leave a second mark to match the first, he pulled her head back. She hadn't noticed his fingers tangling themselves into her hair. 

He pressed his lips to hers, briefly.

"If anything I do makes you uncomfortable," he said, looking her hard in the eyes. "My safeword is lightning rod"

Lisanna chocked back a laugh. "Wait, seriously??"

Bickslow grinned, more himself than he'd been since the first kiss she'd given him.

"Where would you even get that? Seriously, it's the kind of thing I would expect Laxus to use."

Bickslow's grin got wider. 

"It is. Is there anything less sexy than thinking about those two getting it on? Your sister's hot, but it's like thinking about parents having sex."

He took a half a step back and grimaced to illustrate his point. "Use the word and no matter what i'm doing, I'll stop."

Lisanna seriously thought about leaving him there. 

He must have seen it on her face, because he was kissing her again. A light kiss on the lips was followed by a trail down to the dip between her collarbones. 

His hands were roving along her thighs. Up from the knees to the edge of her hips, he trailed his fingers lightly. Each pass along her legs took his hands closer to the inner edge of her thighs, leaving a trail of heated skin against the chill of the air around them. When it felt like his hands might finally brimg themselves into the crevasse between her legs, Bickslow nipped at the skin of her chest and brought his hands up towards her waist instead.

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, Lisanna pulled him back. She let her lower lip jut out into a pout, but he just gave it a quick kiss and resumed his trail of kisses down her chest. 

His lips gravitated to her left breast, while his hand moved up to gently explore the right. 

He sucked on the soft skin of her breast, and Lisanna could help neither the low gasp that came out of her mouth, nor her body's natural reaction to spread her legs further and arch her back. Bickslow took it as an invitation to continue. Lisanna writhed under him. 

He let go only after she'd started to pant. With a gentle kiss on top of the mark he'd made, Bickslow moved on to her nipple. 

He swiped the flat of his tongue against it just as his thumb brushed over the tip the other. She shook. He twirled both the tip of his tongue and the tip of his index finger around her aureolae. her breathing, already heavy, got ragged. 

As he sucked the bud of her left nipple into his mouth, she felt the warmth of his hand disappear from the other side. It didn't matter. All she cared about was the delicious sensation of his mouth, the warmth and gentle suction were rhythmic. She wondered briefly if she could orgasm off of nipple play alone.

And then she found out where his hand had gone. While his mouth worked at his breast, his hands had moved low. The right pinned her hip to the table below him. The left made an exploratory sweep against the folds of her labia. She moaned, and she was fairly certain that his hand came away wet. The asshole did it again. 

He let go of her nipple. The rush of sensation, the cold air against the warmth and saliva he'd left behind threatened to overwhelm her. Her hands, still tangled in his hair, pulled his face to hers. She captured his mouth with what was probably far too sloppy to be considered a kiss. He took control of the kiss as his fingers moved gently against and around the outer edges of her vagina. 

The hand pinning her hip moved down as he shifted his stance to further open her legs. Left hand still playing around the edges of her vagina, he moved the right in to stroke the area around her clit. 

Coherent thought, not her most constant companion that night, now left Lisanna completely. Something in the range of gasps and moans must have alerted Bickslow when he'd found her clit, because he was now stroking it in quick, rhythmic bursts. 

Done teasing, he shifted a finger into her hole and started pushing. In, curl and back out, just enough to let the next movement come through at a steady rhythm. It was far slower than the beat his other hand played, but somehow they harmonised into an exquisite torture. 

While she gasped brokenly against his lips, Bickslow played her expertly. He wound her up, and paused just long enough to slow the building pressure in her abdomen. The continuous cycle had her grinding her hips against his hand, searching for a breaking point he kept just out of her reach. 

He made one stroke a little too hard, a little too fast, bringing her right to the edge of the chasm of her pleasure.

And then his fingers withdrew from her completely to settle on her hips. 

Lisanna could only stare dumbly as he moved ever so slightly away from her...

and down.

The pressure of his tongue against her folds, warm and wet against her already sensitive inner labia drew a low growl. The sound was animalistic, something Lisanna had no idea she was capable of. 

And Bickslow didn't let it stop. The movements of his tongue were much the same as those of his fingers had been. But the added size, warmth and pressure of his tongue against the inside of her vagina was enough to send her over the edge. 

He could feel it, and sped up to keep the orgasm going. 

The gnawing feeling in her abdomen expanded until it seemed to take over her entire body in a flash, the hunger both more intense than it had been and completely fufilled. 

And then it was over. Lisanna drooped into a waiting Bickslow's arms. 

He pressed a gentle kiss onto her forehead, then her eyelids, and finally her mouth. 

He held her against him until she stirred enough to reach up and kiss him in return. 

"Bix." She mumbled, eyes crinkling with a smile. "I hope you know that I have no intention of letting you go."

He looked down at her, once again enraptured by a pair of incredibly clear blue eyes. 

"You're family. At least, you might be the start. And family is everything to me."


End file.
